


The Jack Russell and The Golden Retriever

by Khaelis



Category: Doctor Who, Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: F/M, First Meetings, Fluff, Fluff and Humor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-13
Updated: 2017-06-13
Packaged: 2018-11-13 18:15:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,726
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11190624
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Khaelis/pseuds/Khaelis
Summary: John decides to spend some time at the park with his dog.He wasn't expecting to meet anyone. He still does.





	The Jack Russell and The Golden Retriever

**Author's Note:**

> This was written for doctorroseprompts on Tumblr, the prompt being: "Two dog owners meet in the park while walking their dogs."
> 
> Short AU story written in just a little more than an hour, all mistakes are mine!
> 
> I hope you'll like it, please let me know what you think!

* * *

 

 

John licked the tip of his finger to sift through the pages of the newspaper that was resting over his thigh and ankle crossed over his knee. Nothing much interesting, same old news about politics, finances and sports – nothing he'd ever cared much about – so he simply folded it back and slipped it under his arm with a sigh. He looked above the frame of his glasses at a tiny Jack Russell with a smile tugging at the corner of his lips, watching the small dog run after a butterfly that had had the misfortune to be spotted. Sometimes, he wondered if his friends had offered him this dog just because it was a bit crazy. They often mocked his seriousness and complete inability to let go, so it seemed more than probable that they'd picked that one with the sole purpose of annoying him. It had worked, at first. Having a much too lively puppy running around his once calm and quiet flat had been quite trying, pushing his patience and composure to their darkest limits. But now, he didn't think he could live without that ball of fur. He had to admit, he had grown rather fond of having something warm and soft to cuddle with on the couch, something to care about, something to keep him company during his otherwise lonely nights.

 

Of course, it couldn't quite replace the presence of a person. More specifically, of a woman. Not that he'd been actively looking for a girlfriend – because he didn't have the time nor the courage – but he'd been thinking about it a lot more lately. He'd celebrated his 34th birthday already, and the desire to find himself someone, get married, maybe have a few kids, had grown stronger for the past few months. It was time he did something about it. Maybe he'd follow his friend's advice and subscribe to a dating website. Go out more. Try to hit on some women – or at the very least try to talk to them.

 

He was drawn out of his reverie when he felt something hot and moist licking the back of his hand and looked down only to be faced with a panting Golden Retriever whose pink tongue was lazily falling out if its mouth.

 

 

"I am _so_ sorry. I swear to God, that dog has no manners."

 

 

John first saw the hand that grasped the collar of the dog, followed up the length of an arm and finally faced her. He quickly closed his mouth when he realized his jaw had dropped almost as far down as her dog's and wiped the back of his hand on his thigh with a smile and a shrug.

 

 

"That's quite alright," he offered as the blonde hooked the leash in the ring of the Retriever's collar. "I'd rather be licked than bit."

 

 

He instantly regretted the wink that followed his words and his eyes grew wide when he noticed how she was gaping at him, and the absolutely appalling innuendo made his cheeks burn with a rather spectacular reddish hue.

 

 

"Sorry," he mumbled awkwardly, offering an unconvincing smile of apology. "I didn't mean it like that."

"I'm sure you didn't," she chuckled as she sat down on the bench next to him. "Need some water? I don't want you to combust or something."

"No, thank you," he shook his head, unfolding his newspaper once again just to keep his hands from fiddling with the hem of his shirt.

"Alright. Just warn me should you, you know, burst into flames."

 

 

That definitely didn't help him tame the fire that had spread from the top of his cheeks to beyond the collar around his neck, and the dry tongue that felt like cotton in his mouth made him regret refusing her offer. That was why he didn't talk to women, he remembered as he pretended to read some advert on the left page – quickly turning it with another searing blood flood to his cheeks when he realized it was an ad for sexy women's underwear. No wonder he was still alone. He simply couldn't talk to women. Every time he did, he was bound to make a fool of himself. It was the first time he posed as a complete pervert, mind.

 

John threw that woman a side glance and he sighed in defeat. Even if he hadn't made everything so awkward, there was no way he'd have managed to catch her eyes. She was way above his league. From the long strands of blond hair falling in elegant curls over her bare shoulders, the piercing caramel eyes that were focused on the pages of the book she was reading, the cute round nose that scrunched every now and than, to the full lips on which white teeth were nibbling sensually. Much too beautiful for someone like him.

 

He quickly looked away when he saw the smirk she gave him, along with a seductive wink. She'd caught him staring. But... She didn't seem to mind, did she? Oh, well, things had already gone to Hell already anyway. No way he could make things worse. So, he cleared his throat and put his newspaper on the side before shuffling slightly on the side to get closer to her.

 

 

"So, um, what's your dog's name, then?" he asked as he patted the Retriever's head.

"Oscar," she answered with a smile. "He's adopted, I didn't get to choose his name, but I like it. It suits him, somehow."

"Nice. I didn't get to choose my dog's name either. See that Jack Russell over there? He's mine."

"And he's called...?"

"Oh, um... Poutsy," he shrugged a bit sheepishly, waiting for a laugh of mockery. "Because I pout a lot, it seems."

"Yeah, I know," she giggled, though without any malice. "You've been pouting from the moment I met you."

"Right. Sorry. Can't control it."

"It's cute," she admitted, putting her book down on the bench. "You're cute. A bit weird, but cute. What about _your_ name?"

"Um, John?"

"Is that a question or is that your name?" she said with a tongue-touched grin that made his insides twist.

"No, um, yes, I mean, that's my name. John. John Smith. You?"

"I'm Rose. So, John, would you like to take a walk around the park with me? Take some air?"

"Oh, yes, sure, that would be my, um, pleasure," he stuttered a little before rising on his feet. "Just let me, um..."

 

 

John brought two fingers to his mouth and a sharp, high-pitched whistle fell from his lips. The little Jack Russell immediately ran to him with loud barks, wagging his white tail so fast it was almost invisible against the clear sand of the pathway. He quickly secured his leash around his neck and turned on his feet to find out that his improvised date was already walking down the path and didn't seem too keen on slowing down.

 

 

"Hey, Rose, wait!" he called out after her. "Oh, f.."

 

He cursed under his breath when he began to strut after her, but his feet tangled in the leash and he barely managed not to fall forward and spilt his head open on the edge of the bench. He had to twirl around for a moment, groaning in annoyance and embarrassment, before he could get his feet free and he wasted no time running after that beautiful Rose. She offered a bright smile when he got at her level and he answered with one of his own, almost tempted to take her fingers into his.

 

"So, Poutsy, tell me about yourself," she asked with a cheeky grin.

"He's a _dog_ ," John chuckled, lifting his eyes to the sky. "Can't answer you."

"I wasn't talking to him," she retorted with a friendly punch on his shoulder. "So?"

"Oh, well," he drawled a bit too theatrically. "You already know I have a fetish that involves licking, I think that might be enough information for today."

"Quite right," she laughed, her sweet and melodious voice reaching his ears in the most beautiful of songs. "Then may I tell you that I might have a fetish that involves spikey hair and skinny men with great tastes in fashion?"

"Really?" John asked with a voice that was much to high-pitched to his liking.

"Oh, yes, really. Especially the kind and funny ones."

"Do I fit the bill, by any chance?"

"You might. I don't really know enough about you, do I?"

"I can totally remedy that," he grinned, so entranced by the fact that she was smiling at him with that beautiful glimmer in the depth of her eyes that he failed to notice his dog had chosen to go on the right side of the tree while his legs were taking him on the left.

 

 

John gasped loudly when he tripped over his own feet, lost his balance and was sent tumbling backwards with the force of the leash getting stuck around the trunk. He fell down on his bum with a yelp of pain and watched in dread as Rose steadily kept going, and it wouldn't be long before she'd be out of reach.

 

 

"Rose, wait!" he cried out as he scrambled to his feet and brushed the dust from his knees with the back of his hand. "Dinner tomorrow night?"

"Sure!" she called back with a wave of the hand and a smile she quickly threw in his direction. "I'll see you at the university tomorrow, _Doctor_ Smith!"

"Yep! Um... Wait, what...?"

 

 

John could only stand there, arms dangling on his sides and mouth wide open in shock. She knew him. But how? He scratched his head for a long moment, trying to remember if he'd already seen her before, and it was only when his dog bit down on the cuff of his trousers and pulled with a growl that her image finally popped in front of his eyes. Of course. Rose Tyler.

 

He bent down to pick up Poutsy and gave him a small hug, a smile threatening to split his face in two.

 

 

"You, little guy," he started with a giggle, tremendously excited by the way things had turned out, "might have just got me a date with the head of the linguistics department. I knew she was into tongues. Maybe licking, even. Oh, she's _so_ going to love me."

 

* * *

 


End file.
